


I Can Do Better (if you were around)

by justalittleweird



Category: DCU, Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Not Season/Series 03 Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 21:35:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19934854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justalittleweird/pseuds/justalittleweird
Summary: Dick Grayson didn't do so well after his best friend's death. But he's trying to be better.





	I Can Do Better (if you were around)

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my saved documents for about two years. It was time I finished it.
> 
> It was supposed to be a little more in depth and plotty but I'm not a good writer LOL.
> 
> Still I hope you enjoy sadness.

Wayne Manor was seen by a majority of the world as the prime example of a palace fit for American royalty. Its thick stone walls and rounded towers were constructed with a subdued gothic aesthetic; the manor was impressive in both its physical charm and historical importance. The grounds were sprawling and immaculately kept, but enclosed with a tall, private, and well-guarded gate. Wayne Manor might’ve been as old as Gotham itself, but for many years the grounds had been hidden away from, well, everybody.

Bruce Wayne may be a wealthy, well-traveled play-boy businessman, but one place he kept safely away from curious eyes and nosey journalists was his beloved, ancient family home.

Of course, the manor wasn’t Wayne’s biggest secret, but very few people in the world knew about that.

Still, Dick lay on one of the many overly-lush couches in the manor and decided that family home was a thousand times cozier than the Bat Cave could ever wish to be.

The unlit room the teen was currently relaxing in was probably his favorite place to be in the maze-like mansion. It was large, but not uncomfortably so, with a tall ceiling that was decorated with wooden beams on which a single (and simple) chandelier hung; the walls were made of old stone, and the floor was a polished dark-cherry wood. It was located on the second floor, in the middle of the manor so it was windowless with only one entryway that could be barred with an attached heavy door (Dick would never say it out loud, but the lack of entry points and the safety that came with such design was part of what first drew him to this particular room). There was a brick fireplace, one of many in the manor, and above it hung a large television. Multiple gaming consoles were attached to the device, wires kept neatly arranged by Alfred. Surrounding the TV were three large, dark grey couches. While luxurious in their comfort and style, the fabric showed years of wear (but not tear). There was a solid, wood table in front of the seating and a plush, cerulean rug underneath.

There were other things in the room too, an array of old paintings and knick-knacks ( _“I believe some would refer to them as antiques, Master Dick,”_ ), but honestly the former Robin never observed them much.

Since he first entered this particular room so many years ago, when Bruce had just taken his angry and orphaned self under his (Bat) wing, it became Dick’s primary wind-down spaces. Firstly so he could mourn his parents and old life in peace, but then because he needed to remind himself that he wasn’t just Robin.

Back then, at the beginning, the room was pretty empty. Alfred had caught Dick just sitting in the middle of the place on more than a few occasions, so the older man brought in the couches and eventually the TV; over the years it evolved to what Alfred called Dick’s very own Nest ( _“Very funny with the bird pun there, Alfred.” “Thank you, Master Dick.”_ ).

At first it was just Dick that hang out in the Nest, but he didn’t really mind that at all. Aside from his parents, who had been dead for a few months, Dick didn’t have anybody anyway. Living in a new city at a giant manor with an eccentric billionaire and his butler-friend, alongside his own closed-off persona, Dick had quickly come to the conclusion that he wasn’t going to make any friends soon. He was right, but at least Alfred tried to take one tea break a day with him in the room. Then he became Robin, the Kid Wonder, and the room became the Nest and his place to rest and rebuild himself after a full day of training, school, more training, and then patrol. Alfred sat with him for no less than a half-hour every night for the first year or so, mostly to assess Dick’s physical (and mental) well-being. Over the years, even Bruce, Lord of Darkness and Guilt would come up from the ‘basement’ and sit somewhat comfortably in the Nest. And then somewhere in his life Dick got friends. Well, teammates that became friends after a long while. But, he did gain one good friend fast amongst these teammate, and his fast new friend would be the first outside the Bat Family to enter the Nest.

The friendship was always weird. Dick might’ve been a brat and jokester in the field sometimes (all the time), but he considered himself to be at least somewhat of a leader in training. Not to mention the fact that growing up with someone like Bruce, aka the frigging Batman, kind of left the boy a bit secretive, paranoid, and emotionally stunted. His new friend though, this Wally West, ran as quick as lightning and was as wild and fiery as the mess of red hair atop his head. Wally was loud and clumsy and wore his heart on his sleeve. His wide smile was genuine and didn’t strike fear in the hearts of culprits like Dick’s did. No, their friendship wasn’t like oil and water, but it wasn’t exactly something that could’ve been easily predicted.

As time went on, the two grew closer and closer and eventually, against the Bat’s wishes, Dick revealed his identity to his friend, which Wally believed allowed them to now become Best Friends. Now that they were Best Friends and the biggest secret between them was over, Wally was allowed to visit Wayne Manor and soon took to the Nest almost as fast as Dick did. They spent hours there, playing games and chatting with Alfred. They would eat too much junk food and mock-wrestle. When the heavy door was closed, Bruce and Alfred knew there was a serious discussion or maybe even a heart-to-heart going on between the two in the Nest and to stay the hell away. Saving the world over and over again was a pain in the ass, but Dick lived through it for those easy moments with Wally in the Nest.

And then Wally died, and Dick felt a bone-deep pain that he hadn’t felt since he was a little kid who watched his parents fall down, down, down.

Now, almost two years later, that ache flared up less and less, but it took a lot to get so subdued. For the first few months after Wally’s death, Dick decided to shut himself down and let Nightwing take the reins of his fucked-up life.

Nightwing, who could leap off buildings and free fall until the last possible second, watching the ground come closer and closer without fear.

Nightwing, who spent hours upon hours completely alone, either researching or building tech until he couldn’t see straight.

Nightwing, who could take all the anger and despair that Dick Grayson held and use it to ruthlessly, but methodically take down criminal low-lives.

If he had to be at Wayne Manor he would haunt the Bat Cave until Bruce all but dragged his ass out (Alfred and Tim would only go as far as constantly nag him to go above ground). Once in the manor itself, Dick avoided the Nest like it was a trap. There were too many fresh memories of better times, times when Wally was goofing off or annoying him or just being alive. Thankfully somebody shared his sentiments because the few times he did glance towards the Nest, its heavy wooden door was firmly closed.

But he got better as time went on. He wasn’t done mourning his friend, no, but he was finally off the path of self-destruction, a path that Bruce had followed for so long and that Dick vowed since he was Robin to never blindly follow. He had failed for over a year, but now he considered himself to be free of the pitch black darkness. It wasn’t easy, and he didn’t do it alone. Alfred Pennyworth was a saint amongst emotionally-beaten men, but he could never have been enough to stop a young Bruce from eventually being reborn as Gotham’s own protective demon, and he wasn’t enough to stop Dick from ever picking up the Robin mantle. Dick now realized that someone like him or Bruce, a ‘hero’, can never be truly alone lest that ‘hero’ wants to end up a broken shell of a person. Dick knew loss, and he also knew that his team, his friends, were bound to get hurt in their line of duty; death was inevitable. But he thought they had more time. Obviously he was wrong, and the shock of it all was too much for him to handle. At least it was when he pushed himself to be alone, but luckily Alfred, Tim, and Bruce managed to seep through the cracks in the wall he built around himself, and bring him back before he was too far gone. The team helped him a lot too, even if he did ultimately leave them. He didn’t have a bond with them as strong as he did with Wally, but they were still his friends and they showed him they cared.

There were two people from the team he hasn’t spoken to since Wally’s death: the first was Artemis, but only because he understands a lot of the pain she’s going through. She’s still reeling, still needing help coming back to herself, to a future without Wally. He wasn’t the person to help her, not by a long shot, so he stayed away.

The second was Roy. Much like with Artemis, Dick knew Roy would be wrapped in grief but unwilling to share it with anyone. But between the three of them, Roy would be the toughest to get through. He was pissed off beyond measure (as Roy usually was) and believed his suffering was better tended to alone. Fine. He wanted it that way so Dick would let him have it. Realistically, Wally would be the only that could (probably) unravel Roy.

And then there was Barry Allen. Truth be told, it was Barry who ultimately put the unstable Nightwing to rest and let Dick begin to properly mourn. Barry didn’t come to him and speak bluntly about death and sacrifice like Bruce did, and he didn’t even offer a comforting shoulder to lean on like Alfred or M’gann. Barry Allen simply stood next to Dick and talked about Wally. That was it. Barry would casually sit or lean beside Dick, close but never crowding, offer up a simple greeting and then aimlessly talk about Wally until Bruce or Alfred needed either of them elsewhere. It must’ve been like chatting with a brick wall, Dick mused, but that didn’t deter Barry. He would talk about what Wally was like before the fateful accident that bestowed the redhead with superspeed; he talked about Wally at home, all the weekends he spent with Barry and Iris. Dick knew almost every story Barry had to offer because Wally was just that open with him, but still, he listened. Dick listened and loved every word that Barry said because the older speedster was the only one who talked to him about Wally. No one else breathed a word of him to Dick, but maybe because they knew all along it had to be Barry. Wally West worshipped his uncle, and better yet, loved the man like a father. Dick remembered that he and Wally got buzzed on cheap beer that Roy had bought ages before, and in a rare moment of gloom Wally whispered to the Nest and to Dick _“I don’t ever wanna let Uncle Barry down.”_ Dick had sloppily assured his friend that nothing he ever did would let the older man down, which was enough to calm the redhead and reignite his bubbly demeanor.

Dick meant his words back then. He and Wally were close, basically brothers, but Barry Allen motivated Wally in a way no else ever could. So how could Dick lock himself away and crumble at the loss of his best friend when Barry Allen, who lost the closest thing he had to a son, was motivated to wake every morning, save his city, and keep living despite the bags under his eyes, lack of his usual smile, and constant reminder that his Kid Flash was dead.

The realization hit Dick lick a punch to the gut. If Wally could see him at the moment, dead-eyed and exhausted due to his own stubbornness, he’d probably call his best pal a douchebag. Dick didn’t want to be a douchebag.

It had been four months since that little epiphany. Dick still missed his friend deeply, and he had found that he needed to sort through all the sadness he locked away while trying to be only Nightwing, the weapon. The sleep he got wasn’t much and not really restful but he was eating more now, and living his life like before: equal parts Dick and Nightwing. He talked to his family and friends and realized he was making progress when they talked back in normal tones, without the guards that had to be put in place when Wally died. They even began talking about Wally more, although it was Alfred who spoke most of him. Alfred was brave like that, never afraid to openly remember Jason and now Wally. And now Dick found himself lying across on the familiar grey couch he hadn’t seen in over a year.

In fact, months ago, he thought he’d never come back into the Nest, at least not for a long while. When he first opened the heavy wooden door to the Nest, Dick though the room’s air would be stale and unmoving, with a fine layer of dust covering every inch of the place. But of course, Alfred would never let any part of the manor fall into such a state. The Nest was clean and airy, a picture of how it was before that damned night. It was a little too much to take in at first and Dick nearly pulled the copper door handle off from clutching too tightly. There wasn’t anything special about this particular night. There were no birthdays of his friends or family to celebrate, and it wasn’t a holiday either. Nightly patrol went okay, as there were very few assholes out and about and participating in anything illegal. It had been storming in Gotham for the past week, enough to make even the Joker stay inside and take a breather.

It wasn’t even the anniversary of Wally’s death, though that was only a few months away. It would be two years then. Central City had built a statue to honor the memory of their beloved fallen hero, Kid Flash. There was a solemn yet hopeful ceremony for his one-year anniversary. Citizens flocked around the statue to hear testimonies from those Wally had saved as Kid Flash. There was even a surprise speech from the Flash himself. It was heartfelt and only somewhat saddening. Dick didn’t hear any of it because he refused to go and then avoided any online coverage or discussions about the event. The team had gone, even some of the Justice League showed up although they were all in disguise and dispersed amongst the crowd. Alfred watched the live-stream of it in one the many living rooms, and Tim had it playing on his phone while he and Bruce tinkered with various tech in the Bat Cave. Dick locked himself in one of the soundproofed training rooms of the Cave and worked his body until his legs refused to carry his weight any longer. It was a rough day to say the least.

But he was different now, in a better place mentally. He knew going to Kid Flash’s second anniversary mourning-slash-appreciation ceremony would be a step in the right direction; it was time he moved forward with his life. He liked that he made the decision to attend, as a disguised civilian, so early as now he had months to mentally prepare. He’d also been thinking of ways to approach Roy and invite him to tag along with Dick. It would be a risky move and Roy would honestly just end up pissing Dick off, but he had to give it a shot.

Sometimes Dick also thought about visiting Wally’s parents. He had met them a few times, though never at their home, but they were always nice enough to Wally’s strange friend that never took off his sunglasses. They didn’t know Dick knew Wally from their other lives, but it would be easy enough to fabricate a story on how they went to summer camp or played in the same online multiplayer and Dick had only then just made his way to Central City and looked them up.

Hell, he hadn’t even been to visit with Iris Allen, who loved Wally as much as wholeheartedly as Barry did.

Dick felt like a dick. He rearranged his mental calendar: visit Iris, talk to Roy, and attend the ceremony, then check-up on Wally’s parents (and Artemis? Maybe.) and continue forward in life with other little steps. He loved it when there was a plan to things, and better yet when he planned the plan.  
Maybe he could even visit Wally’s grave, his ‘real’ grave that bade memory to the ‘spirited and lovable Wallace West, beloved son, nephew, and friend’, and pay his respects to a shiny headstone and empty, buried casket.

Or maybe not. Would it even help, he wondered. Wally wasn’t there, no physical part of him was on Earth. Dick knew the team had visited the site. Had Artemis visited or did she find it as pointless as he did? Barry has gone. He told Dick about it a couple of times when Dick was walled off to the world, but he never lingered too long on the topic. Iris usually accompanied him, although sometimes Hal Jordan would tag along.

Oh shit, he forgot about Hal. Wally loved the Green Lantern almost as much as he loved his Uncle Barry, and it was no secret that Hal loved Wally just as much back. Okay, Dick thought, let’s add Hal to the plan. He would talk to the man after he checked in with Iris for sure, but he didn’t know if to wait until after the ceremony to engage in an “I know I’ve ignored everyone for two years but I’m here now and how’re you holding up” conversation. Thinking about it now, Dick wondered if he should even approach Hal. Dick liked the guy well enough, and definitely respected him as the Green Lantern, but could he offer any kind of consolation the man? Hal, like so many of the people Dick knew, didn’t like to deal with serious feelings. Hal usually joked off most heavy situations, which is why Bruce, both in and out of the cowl, snapped at the other man more so than anyone in the League.Barry was probably the anchor Hal used, and maybe even Wally when he was still around. 

Dick couldn’t help the small smile that broke across his face. Wally West might’ve been one of the fastest people alive, but the redhead also had the most unnatural ability to get under people’s skin and into their hearts. It sounded corny, but it was true. When Wally was ripped from the Earth, a lot of broken people were left behind, people who loved him and some who even needed him.

The sudden influx of light in the Nest made Dick simultaneously squint and sit up at a speed that only came with years of training.

“Is there any particular reason you are laying in the dark, Master Dick?” Alfred had an amazing ability to sound courteous yet undeniably sarcastic to those that tested his temper. Dick had been past that point for many years now, so the tone was almost always present when the two spoke, although there was always a fondness within it. At that moment though, the sarcasm was subdued and replaced with a sort of hesitance. Both Alfred and Dick knew this was an important moment. Dick didn’t mean to stay in the Nest so long, and he definitely didn’t want to get caught being in the room at all because he knew there would be Questions, probably not ever asked but the fact that the Questions were formed at all was dangerous enough. You don’t become a member of the Bat Family without being curious or, as some (like Hal) would call it, nosey. But no one in the Bat Family liked to ask Questions directly. That meant a Discussion had to occur, and Discussions were pushed away in the Wayne Manor as often of Feelings.

Of course, the only one who didn’t think along those lines was Alfred, who could handle Discussions and Feelings very well, and Dick had always been weak at turning the older man away when he wanted to help. Plus Alfred was very good at dealing with broody Bat-people.

So when Alfred asked why he was laying in the dark, what the older man was really asking was _“Why have you come back_ here _?”_

And Dick wondered why indeed did he come back to the Nest, preserved in time for almost two years and that would never be rid of the memories. He had been on the way to the Bat Cave when he offered a quick glance to the closed door and next thing he knew his hand was gripping the handle and his arm had pushed the door open. Yes he had a plan for little-steps, but God knows he loved to spontaneously free-fall sometimes.

He didn't want to say as much to Alfred though, so Dick just offered up a shrug.

It got him a raised eyebrow in return. But then Alfred stepped inside and gently shut the door behind him. Oh no, Dick thought. Maybe he could do a flip over the older man and make a run for it because Dick didn’t know if he had it in him to have a Discussion right at that moment. He already had his free-falling moment of the night, it was time to go back to the little-steps plan.

A light chuckle interrupted his escape plan.  
“Please do not look so frightened, sir, I have no intentions of interrogating you. Not tonight at least, with the weather being what it is. Rain tends to make old men drowsy.” There was a smile on his face and kind but teasing glint in his eyes. Alfred motioned a hand towards the space where Dick’s legs took up half of the couch, a silent request to sit next to him. Immediately Dick crossed his legs and shoved them under himself, giving the empty space a soft pat, his silent reply of acceptance.

“And yet you’re still roaming the halls like some of ghost. Bruce is supposed to be the creepy one, remember?”

They shared another light chuckle together. “Indeed, sir, indeed. However, I was seeking you out. You were not in the Cave nor your room, and I was about to try your communicator when I saw this door was open.”

Dick offered another shrug. “Yeah…well, yeah. I was on my way to the Cave, but…anyway, what can I do you for, Alfie?”

Alfred let his gaze slide off Dick and onto the wall across from them. His smile and amused eyes were slowly fell from his face.

“I just wished to check in on you. I heard from Master Bruce that tonight’s patrol was rather uneventful. You have taken to some intense training activities when you feel restless; I wanted to be sure you had at least eaten.”

The rush of warmth that enveloped his caught Dick only slightly by surprise. Alfred, without fail, looked after his boys. Even when Dick or Bruce were lost in their personal darkness, Alfred was there with a cup of tea or a plate of food. He had an open ear as well, as always, but Dick only just begun to make use of that comfort again. “Yeah, I ate some leftovers a while ago, I’m good to go. Well, I was good to go…”  
Alfred’s eyes found Dick’s again, but the older man said nothing.

“It’s just…I don’t know, I was heading to the Cave and then I just ended up here. And I know you’re surprised that I’m here, believe me Alfie, I am too. I thought I was a long way off from ever coming in here again. I think I needed to this, though. How can I get better…how I move past all of this, past Wally, when I can’t even enter a damn room? But I did it though, I came in here.” He let out a self-deprecating snort. “I’m so fearless, aren’t I?”

There was silence. Alfred continued to look at Dick, his stare heavy with understanding and something else, something Dick couldn’t pick up on. If he was being honest, Dick didn’t want to know what it was. Maybe it was sorrow or pity, he didn’t care. Dick looked away from Alfred, his own eyes now taking the clenched fists on his lap. This was what he had been hoping to avoid, and Dick took a moment to reprimand himself for not following his instincts and fleeing the scene when he had the chance. Well it wasn’t too late, really. Sure his legs were crossed under his weight, but all he needed to do was roll on his back and over his head and he should be on all fours in a few seconds, then he could bound over the couch or hell, even over Alfred-

“Richard, you are a brave man and better still, a good man.”

Dick didn’t know how to respond to that, and so he kept his eyes cast downward. Alfred continued, “This room was more than just that to you…to Wally. I think he would have been happy that you finally made it back in here.”

“I have a whole plan, you know, a step-by-step plan on what to do for the next few months. I’m…I’m going to attend Wally’s anniversary ceremony in Central City. But there are some people I want to--need to--talk to beforehand. Maybe after all that, I can be over this.”

And then there was a hand on Dick's knee. It was more than a little weathered, but there was a strength inside of it that Dick could only hope he'd have if he even had the chance to make it so far in his life. It something that he rarely let himself feel: comfort.

“Losing someone you love isn't something that one simply ‘gets over’. How awful it would be to leave those memories behind. You are grieving, and you will be grieving in some way for the rest of your life. But it will get easier. Breathing, laughing, remembering—its painful at the moment, but it won’t be this way forever.”

Again there was silence as the younger man let the words sink into the air. Then Dick let out a snort.  
Alfred raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry Alfie, that was really helpful, honest, but I just couldn’t help but picture you trying that out on the big guy.” Alfred rolled his eyes at the thought immediately and Dick couldn’t help but let out a full blown laugh.

“Of course, Master Dick. Don't think I haven’t tried, but it seems our honorable Master Bruce has quite a serious case of selective hearing. I hope you haven't picked up on his bad habit?”

“Nah, I hear you loud and clear. I think I just need a moment to let it really sink it.”

With that, Alfred stood and adjusted his cuffs. “Well consider this one of many moments. I have a bat that needs feeding and at least five minutes of rest away from whatever the devil he's doing now. Will you be joining us for a midnight snack?”

“Yeah, I'll be down in just a moment Alf.” With a kind smile, Alfred left the Nest, leaving the door open in his trail.

It was just him now, again. In this room, so quiet but Dick knew every laugh and secret that had soaked into the walls and furnishings throughout the years. For just a second, he felt like he could breathe without the weight of his guilt constricting him.  
It was just a moment, but it was more than enough for now.

* * *

  
Green eyes bore into him, tired but still as vibrant as they were so many years ago. There was a smile, so wide and bright and achingly familiar that Dick almost couldn’t look. 

Almost.

The who, how, and what-the-hell were all very present in the back of his mind, but nothing was comparable to the pure elation that felt like it was running directly through his veins, pumping into every molecule of his body.

“Hey Bird Wonder, didja miss me?”

Dick let out a small laugh. “Yeah Wally, I really did.”

* * *


End file.
